Election tightens Michael Madigan's grip on Illinois politics

November 04, 2010|By John Kass

Somewhere high up in the heavens, up on his favorite Cloud 5, the ghost of Richard J. Daley floated with the spirit of Ald. Paddy Bauler as they enjoyed a post-Election Day glass of fine Irish whiskey.

"Will you just look at the lad over dere down by dere?" Daley said, poking Bauler in the ribs as he spotted a Chicago politician on Earth, far, far below.

From that height, the politician was but a tiny speck, and the two of them could see a line of other tiny politicians eagerly stooping to kiss the little fellow's behind.

"Doncha remember him as a kid?" Daley said, eyes welling with emotion and pride. "Now look at the lad. They're all lining up to kiss that bony behind o' his."

And so Daley's smile beamed forth, like the flat rays of a thin November sun after a Democratic machine victory.

"Yer talking about cher son?" asked Bauler — famous in life for the immortal phrase about Chicago not being ready for reform. "Are ya pointing at young Richard? He don't have no bony behind. Who you lookin' at?"

"It's Mike Madigan," said the mayoral ghost, as the tiny politicians stooped and smooched. "Cancha hear da smoochin' all the way up over by here? It's like the music of the birds. He's the new boss."

Mike Madigan, speaker of the state House, is supreme boss of the state once called Illinois, but is now known to taxpayers as Madiganistan.

It sure must make his rival and outgoing Mayor Richard M. Daley seethe with jealousy. I can just imagine Daley on Wednesday, eyes green with envy, steam pouring from his ears, muttering that Madigan isn't all that powerful.

But the spirits of dead bosses have spoken. And whether you can hear them or not, Madigan is supreme warlord, of everything.

And despite editorial boards and columnists like me taking the hammer to him before the election, Madigan not only survived, he prospered.

So I tip my hat to him. Not that I agree with the despotic way he runs things or his ever-increasing powers that stifle democracy, or the fact that he makes a fortune in his private law business reducing taxes for downtown real estate interests while the rest of us get it in the neck.

But paying homage to his Machiavellian deviousness and meticulous planning doesn't have to be done over a beer.

Besides, Madigan would never engage in a ridiculous stunt like that "beer summit" at the Billy Goat Tavern on Wednesday evening. Victorious U.S. Senator-elect Mark Kirk was dressed in a suit, the vanquished Alexi Giannoulias was dressed in Hawks cap and jeans. There were TV cameras and reporters hanging around for a feel-good story.

Madigan, on the other hand, hates being in the news.

On WGN-TV's election-night coverage, anchors Mark Suppelsa and Micah Materre asked me if Madigan would mend fences with his enemies.

Yes, I said, as long as he could take the heads of his enemies and stick them on the fence posts. Then he'd be satisfied.

Madigan already has plenty of helpful friends.

His allies on the Illinois Supreme Court bring him power, especially since Madigan will draw the state political map and the court will rule on it. The Cook County assessor — the mother of all fundraising posts — gives him power.

Having his daughter as the state's top law enforcement officer isn't bad either.

And that's just the county and the state. The warlord of Madiganistan is closely allied with fellow Southwest Side Ald. Edward Burke, 14th, chairman of the City Council's Finance Committee. Burke, no friend of Daley's, draws the city ward map.

A few flicks of Burke's pen, or Madigan's, and Daley's 11th Ward could be erased, or mayoral brother and Cook County Commissioner Johnny Daley could be facing an aggressive Latino challenger.

Madigan's power was summed up, succinctly, by Madigan ally Joseph Berrios. He happens to be Madigan's chairman of the Cook County Democrats and Madigan's newly elected assessor of Cook County.

"We were beat up, we were knocked on, you can take every newspaper — major newspapers, they call themselves here in Chicago — but the voters and taxpayers of Cook County saw through that," Berrios said after his victory.

Berrios said there was a lesson here.

"Don't count the Democratic Party out, and do not count our organization out of anything," he said. And he meant it.

The way things look now. Madigan will have Pat Quinn, known as the brave Gov. Jell-O, to boss around for another four years, Quinn quivering at his approach. He's got Lisa primed to be governor, once Quinn takes the fall for raising taxes.

And Madigan elected Illinois Supreme Court Chief Justice Thomas Kilbride, despite a stop-Kilbride campaign, as the speaker prepares that new political map.

While most critics focused on Berrios, Madigan focused on key swing districts in the House and elected enough puppets, some by thin margins, to stay the boss.

And up in the clouds, think of the old machine ghosts looking down, raising their glasses as they begin to sing that old song by The Who. OK, it's a stretch, but just try it anyway.

"And the parting on the left / is now parting on the right / And their beards have all grown longer overnight…